"A third film I’m going to list is Peter Greenaway’s film Drowning by Numbers. And Drowning by Numbers, a few years ago my wife and I at the Brattle Theater in Cambridge, [Massachusetts,] got to show each other films that we loved, and the one that was the hardest for the Brattle to get hold of was a cinema print of Drowning by Numbers. I really wanted to see it on a big screen again; I’d seen it on a big screen when it first came out, and in the intervening years, seen it on video, but loved it. It’s a film about games, it’s a film about numbers, it’s a film about murder, men being murdered by women, who may all be the same woman, but are, at least the way that I read it, aspects of the triple Goddess — the maiden, the mother, and the crone — but all of them are having the same relationship with men. All of them are profoundly killing off these rather abusive and appalling men in their life, and it’s a strangely beautiful and absolutely surreal film that plays by its own rules. And one of its rules is it makes you in the audience count. You start noticing numbers showing up on screen and realize they are counting to 100. So when you are at number 50 on the screen and a character is explaining to you the rules of the game, you realize that you have another 50 to go and you’re exactly halfway through. Beautiful performances and beautifully filmed, and just one of those places where, as far I am concerned I wish there was so much more cinema like that, but there doesn’t seem to be."

"Head is my favorite film that stars a musical artist, by some degree. And yes, that includes the brilliant A Hard Day’s Night. However, the Monkees’ triumph of a movie is a Pyrrhic victory, because Head accelerated their demise, as it sees Dolenz, Nesmith, Tork, and Jones push the self-destruct button. Directed by Bob Rafelson and cowritten by Jack Nicholson, the movie shows the Monkees tearing down their wholesome network-TV, pre–Fab Four image with wild style. Much has been read into this stream-of-consciousness movie, with its overlapping dream sequences, surreal song numbers, and drug-influenced chaos. The simplest way of describing it is this: the Monkees are sick of being on their network show and attempt to break out of the studio lot, literally and figuratively. There are several scenes where the Monkees are trapped in a box, a live number where they are revealed to be plastic mannequins, and bookending sequences where the members commit suicide. So basically, the Monkees want out. There have been some claims by the Monkees since the film came out that this message was projected onto it by Rafelson and Nicholson, but the script was clearly born of a very real frustration with their image. The movie bombed in 1968, because not many Monkees fans wanted to know that their idols had painted-on smiles. What remains is a gem of rock music cinema, with great songs and images throughout. Plus, as depressing as the theme of entrapment is, it’s frequently very funny. I got to interview Dolenz about it at a New Beverly Q&A once. A young audience member quizzed him on the deeper themes, and he just replied, “Man, I was twenty-three . . .”"

"I think it’s probably one of the most inspirational movies for me because of Paul Newman‘s performance. I think that is, to me, some of the best, [most] controlled acting in a movie. I think that he has this incredible likability. Even though he’s a drunk, washed-up lawyer, you’re still rooting for him from the very beginning. I’m that sort of weird guy who will watch a movie almost every day if I can. It’s harder when you’re working on the show. I buy a lot of movies on used DVD so I can have certain scenes. I was really looking for things to inspire me. When I got out of college I was waiting tables professionally [and] couldn’t afford to go the theater [every] night. I think those great movies can actually make you feel a certain way. Not only emotionally, but if you’re in this business, it’s one of those things where you see someone do something that good and it buys you a year of energy. That’s what I was really looking for. It sounds so cliché,[but I wanted] to bask in the glow some of these amazing performances, like [those of] Dustin Hoffman and Marlon Brando. But it was also fun. To get back to what I was saying before, that 1970s raw energy, it’s almost frustrating now that people aren’t making more movies like that because people won’t go see them. Even Away We Go is, in a way, a tribute to the 1970s movies, too, but more of the Hal Ashby thing. Again, I don’t think people are making movies like this, so for Sam to do it is incredibly cool. And the fact that my name’s on the poster is totally surreal."

"Whoever it was that said this album didn't sell a lot of copies but every person who bought it went on to form a band, I think there is probably some truth in that. It is such an influential record; such a truly unique, maverick record and it's one of the records I play more than anything else. I often go back to it now - I will just feel like needing to hear 'Venus In Furs'. It still sounds weirdly modern considering it was made in the sixties. I love the whole way The Velvet Underground went about things - John Cale playing viola, Nico singing on some of the songs and Lou singing on others. It has a feel to it that is unlike anything and nobody has really touched for originality since then. It sounds so strange - it was made in New York during a period that has the whole mystique of Andy Warhol’s Factory. It's also one of the great album covers of our time – Warhol’s peeling banana. I knew Andy very well throughout the eighties until he sadly died. That whole scene was so stylish and underground - they had the perfect name. I've been lucky enough over the years to meet John Cale a bunch of times and Lou Reed - I sat next to Lou at a dinner a few months back - and to me they are still great icons of modern music. We actually played with Lou onstage once in the late eighties. We did a charity show and he came and played 'Sweet Jane' and 'Walk On The Wild Side' with us, which was surreal. We have covered 'Femme Fatale' - we could cover the entire album but it wouldn't be nearly as good so there's no point."

"I was going to go for ‘Call On Me’ from Safe As Milk but it has to be ‘Sure 'Nuff 'n Yes I Do’, which is probably my favourite ever Beefheart song. If I do any DJ’ing or I’m doing a party I open the set with this song. There’s just something about it, the groove on it was something I found really inspiring, again I guess it’s rooted in Rock and Roll, but it’s the way the beat is performed where it really helps the song to motor along. “I first heard this song way back. We used to listen to Frank Zappa a lot and Hot Rats was my favourite record for a while. I know Zappa divides a lot of people, but I think sometimes it’s misunderstood. People see it as this really annoying, muso stuff, which I definitely think it was later on at times, but I’ve always been intrigued by the rawness of early Zappa, how he used Beefheart and how he collaborated with him was always really interesting. I always look at it as really raw, they were all really good at their instruments and really good players but not musos at all. I thought it was raw, exciting and on the edge, but then the late ‘70s came along!” “What I love about Captain Beefheart and this track is the off-kilter rhythms, the instrumentation, the surreal, strange lyrics and the directness of it with its economic structures. This track is insane and sometimes he gets really abstract, which is cool in a different way, it’s kind of like all of it to be honest for different reasons, but ‘Sure 'Nuff 'n Yes I Do’ is like a party track, it’s just dirty and wonderful."

"I think one of the main reasons I picked Abattoir Blues and Lyre Of Orpheus was because, as a double album, you get more bang for your buck. Abattoir Blues has a more gospel feel to it, background vocals and big crescendos. Lyre Of Orpheus was generally a quieter record except for the title track, which is one of my favourites. I love the lyrics to that song. One awesome thing about Nick Cave is the darkness and the humour in his stuff. On Abattoir Blues, I love 'There She Goes, My Beautiful World', 'Hiding All Away' and 'Nature Boy'. Just good tunes man. At this point you can hear the Warren Ellis influence. I've always been a Nick Cave fan, since The Birthday Party. My roommate at the time, Charles Peterson [Sub Pop photographer], had a copy of Prayers On Fire and I've been listening to and following Nick Cave ever since then. First time I got to see him he didn't play Seattle, so me and my friends drove three hours north to Vancouver and that was on the First Born Is Dead tour. My favourite ever Nick Cave lyric was going way back to 'Deep In The Woods' [from Mutiny/The Bad Seed] - where it ends with the line, "Tonight we sleep in separate ditches"; that always cracks me up. 20,000 Days On Earth was the best music documentary I've ever seen. It didn't follow the normal " and then he did this and then he did that" of those Behind The Music narratives, it was a surreal and cool peak in to Cave's world. Something I learned about him that I didn't know already is that he likes to eat pizza in front of the TV!"